


Threads

by dawnishere



Series: Heith Week 2k17 (July) [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Sewing, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 14:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11557062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnishere/pseuds/dawnishere
Summary: A fashion show in the Altean tradition: by Hunk and Princess Allura. Everyone's on board except Keith so it's up to Hunk to convince him.Heith Week Day 6:Colors





	Threads

**Author's Note:**

> Colors => clothes 
> 
> I actually really love this. I live for Allura and Hunk being friends and there's not much (if any) of it in the show. Dark s3, give me Hunk/Allura bromance!
> 
> Timeline-wise....I have no idea where this goes. Shiro's there, so let's pretend it takes place post s2 but after they find Shiro?
> 
> There's a bit of very, very implied minor Shallura. I imagine Allura to be in her early twenties (I think someone said somewhere that she's 19 but she seems way older than me and I'm 19), so it's why it seemed ok for me to include. It's very faint, like, barely a sentence or two. If it squicks you out too much, though, it's in the second paragraph after the second horizontal line. 
> 
> Enjoy!

If you asked anyone Hunk had ever known what his most beloved hobby was, they'd all answer "cooking" without fail. And they wouldn't be wrong, for the most part.

But when lingering in the ship's kitchen proved too hectic, required too much energy, Hunk turned to other comforts. Sometimes, he wished he and someone on his team shared a hobby; it would help when he felt particularly lonely. Keith had a monopoly on the training room and Pidge tinkered with anything and everything. Lance....seemed to specialize in self-care, if that counted, and he didn't even know what the other, older members of their team did.

It wasn't like their hobbies didn't interest him, but they defeated his entire point of having one: to wind down and de-stress. No offense to his fellow paladins, but their ideas of fun and relaxation keyed him up way too much. So, he set out to ask Allura and Coran what they did for fun. 

Coran gave him a somewhat weird reply: "Fun? Well, for fun, I like to imagine myself relaxing on a shopping excursion after defeating the Galra empire. My pockets are flush with cash and I rescue numerous Altean artifacts from sellers who have no clue as to their true worth. " 

"Okay..." Hunk drew out in disbelief. "So…you daydream about what's basically our trip to the swap shop minus the threat of Zarkon hanging over our heads."

"Exactly!" Coran thrust his index finger into the air.

That had been a bust. 

Allura, in an equally strange twist, was talking to the mice when he caught her in the hallway. She stopped abruptly when she saw him and pretended she hadn't been chatting up a storm with them. "Is there anything you need, Hunk?" She cleared her throat.

He tried not to let his eyes stray too much to the mice on her shoulder. "Hey, Allura,” he waved, feeling a bit awkward. “I'm in the market for a new hobby and I was curious what you like to do in your down time." The mice were getting harder to ignore, with the way they were squeaking hyperactively after his question. He pointedly did not look at them. 

"Oh! I'd love to show you my hobbies! That sounds like fun!" She looked two seconds away from clapping her hands together in glee. She looked at the mice. "The mice agree. Come, Hunk. I'm so excited to spend some time with you. I feel like we’ve never spoken alone since you all got here.” She led the way down the hall, in the complete opposite direction he’d originally been walking. She didn’t look back to see if he was following. There was no need. What other choice did he have? 

Besides, he was insanely curious about what the Princess did in her free time and her excitement made the prospect of finding out for himself that much more promising.

* * *

Allura was a genius. He told her so. 

“Thank you,” she said brightly, drowning in swathes of bright purple fabric. “I’m glad you are enjoying this.” 

Hunk nodded his head vehemently. “Very much so. Thank you for sharing this with me, Princess. I’m honored.”

“What are friends for?” She said rhetorically, and for a split second, Hunk had a glimpse into what she would have been like, without the worry, the weariness, the war. Carefree. Giggly, even. She wasn’t much older than them, Hunk remembered, and she didn’t seem like she often got to show it. 

Hunk shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. A little too dark for a relaxation session among friends. He stood a little unsteadily, displaying the tunic Allura lent him. It was a bright emerald green, and all sorts of colors appeared depending on the way he stood, like a kaleidoscope. “How do I look?” He grinned shyly at the Princess, who clapped proudly. 

“Like an Altean prince,” she beamed. The castle mice chattered near her knee and she lifted them onto her shoulder. “The mice think you look dashing as well! Oh! And here, try it with this belt; it’s a little billowy in the waist.” She handed him a flatly-packed strip of brown cloth and he tied it in a knot around his waist. There was a long mirror opposite Allura’s closet and Hunk paused in front of it. He didn’t think he’d miss this sort of thing until Allura suggested they have a fashion show. He thought of his sisters and smiled. They would have died at the sight of the Princess’s wardrobe (which was very extensive considering she’d been asleep for millennia). 

“Hey, Princess—“

“Allura,” she chided gently. A reminder.

“Allura,” he corrected himself. “Do you know how to sew?”

She tapped her chin in thought and nodded. “I’m familiar with the art. Not an expert seamstress, by any means, but I do well enough with my own clothes. And you?”

“I’m familiar with it,” Hunk repeated her words. “What would you say about bringing this fashion show to the rest of the paladins?” He looked away from her, a little embarrassed. What if she said no? He’d get it. This might’ve been more private of hobby for her than he’d initially realized. 

“You want us to model these clothes in front of the rest of the paladins?” Allura asked, puzzled. “I’m not opposed to it if you wish to.”

Hunk shook his hands. “No! I mean, maybe? But I mean more along the lines of, sewing pretty Altean clothes for the rest of the paladins.” He flopped back down onto the carpeted floor of Allura’s bedroom, lifting up the tunic hem to avoid sitting on it. Allura looked contemplative. Well, this was it. She was gonna say no—

“I think it’s a splendid idea, Hunk,” she grinned so widely the pink spots under her eyes moved out of sight. “The only challenge is convincing everyone to participate.”

“Convincing everyone…oh right, we can’t just force them to wear the clothes we made them,” Hunk muttered to himself. 

“That would not be the done thing,” Allura took on a self-important tone, then smirked. “For example, I’m not sure Keith would be very enthused about playing dress up and posing for us all to see.” 

Hunk tried to imagine it. Keith dressed in a flowy Altean tunic, fluttering delicately across a catwalk. He just couldn’t picture it. The image quickly morphed into Keith, patently unimpressed, wearing a tightfitting shirt made of that kaleidoscopic fabric and trying to pull it away from his body. _Do I really have to wear this?_ The Keith in his head grumbled. Daydream-Keith quickly took out his Galra knife and slashed the shirt to pieces, leaving Daydream-Hunk to either cry or admire the built planes of his friend’s torso. Hunk shook his head like he was trying to get water out of his ear. “Yeah,” he muttered vaguely. “I couldn’t picture it.”

Allura gave him a slightly concerned look and he guessed that he’d been daydreaming longer than was socially acceptable. He cleared his throat and added, “Leave it to me, I’ll convince Keith.” He paused, then remembered everyone else. “And Pidge and Lance, of course.” 

The Princess nodded in acquiescence. “Wonderful. And I’ll convince Shiro and Coran. Not that it would take much,” she muttered knowingly. Hunk laughed and the two friends enjoyed the rest of the ship’s afternoon sketching potential designs, getting a little ahead of themselves. Hunk, who dabbled in all kinds of artistic pursuits, took over the drawing and Allura hovered over his shoulder, making suggestions for increased accuracy to Altean modes of dress. They picked out fabric from old pieces of clothing Allura had either outgrown or never fit into anyway; astonishingly, they’d also discovered some bolts of different fabrics in the very back of her closet. 

(“I’ve never actually explored this deep into the closet,” Allura admitted sheepishly.)

* * *

Hunk and Allura’s pet project had been put on the backburner as they were reminded often over the next few weeks of the war at large. In between skirmishes with Galra forces and freeing locals from Galra occupation, Hunk had forgotten to ask Keith if he’d let them sew him some Altean clothes. 

He’d asked Pidge and Lance almost immediately after leaving Allura’s bedroom, and they both agreed, Pidge albeit more hesitantly than Lance. Allura had made good on her end as well; Shiro and Coran were both on board. Hunk was curious what she’d said to Shiro to convince him, because his ears reddened whenever he looked at her. Suspicious. Allura was all smiles, though, and kept her mouth shut. _I see you, Princess_ , he squinted at her when she wasn’t looking. She stuck her tongue out at him childishly when he didn’t look away fast enough.

It wasn’t until he’d been in the middle of finishing up his share of Lance’s clothes that he even remembered to ask Keith. And, he thought guiltily, he wondered if he was just putting it off because he was afraid of being rejected. Professionally! Professionally, of course. What other way was there to get rejected? Hunk busied himself with the golden hemming of Lance’s top and promised himself he’d ask Keith about the clothes the next time he saw the guy. 

The universe had it out for him, clearly, because Keith showed up not a minute afterward. To be fair, he likely hadn’t been looking for him? Hunk had settled to work on Lance’s clothes on relatively neutral ground: the rec room. The width of the room combined with its emptiness made it a pleasant workspace. That quiet was interrupted by the entrance sliding open and Keith’s black-clad form stalking through it. It was a little odd that he wasn’t in the training room, but Hunk didn’t think much of it.

“What’s got your knife in a gut?” Hunk asked sardonically, then immediately cringed. His dead-in-the-water attempt at humor was met with Daydream-Hunk shouting “Abort!” inside his head ad nauseum. Keith gave him a strange look but didn’t reply, throwing himself onto the couch near where Hunk was seated. Someone was in a mood. Hunk liked his head where it was, though, so he just nodded and went back to his work. 

“Are you mad at me?” Keith asked suddenly, a note of uncertainty in his voice. Hunk nearly stabbed his thumb with the needle at the outburst and sighed. Quiznak, he’d dropped a stitch. 

“No,” Hunk said quizzically. “Why would you think that?” 

“Because…” There was such a long pause, Hunk looked up from the cloth and expectantly at the red paladin. Keith looked mildly embarrassed, like having someone know he could be unsure was going to lead directly to his death. The pause drew out long enough that it was now just a silence.

Hunk tapped his fingers against the rich cloth in his lap impatiently. “Are you gonna say something, or—“

“I was getting to it!” Now he was indignant. Hunk raised his eyebrows, waiting. “Because.” He took a deep breath, like he was steeling himself up for something. He didn’t realize he’d flustered the other guy so much? “Because you didn’t…” the rest of Keith’s words were lost in a mumble. 

Hunk poked a finger in his ear and twisted. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I missed it.”

“You didn’t ask me if I wanted to join in your little—“Keith handwaved here—“fashion thingy. And you’re usually pretty good at including me, so I’d wondered if you were, you know: mad. At me,” he clarified. 

Realization dawned on Hunk and he felt even guiltier than before. He didn’t realize Keith had noticed his lapse in memory. “I’m not mad at you,” Hunk reassured him. Keith looked like he didn’t believe it. “I swear. I’ve just been putting it off, because I thought for sure you’d say no. And then I just forgot. I was actually gonna ask you later today, but well,” he shrugged. “You found me first.”

“I wouldn’t say no,” Keith said gruffly. 

“Noted,” Hunk grinned. Now why couldn’t their interactions be this great and clear-cut all the time? “When you get a chance, just send some of your clothes over to me and Allura. We need your measurements.” 

“Don’t you get measurements by like,”—he coughed—“measuring _directly_?”

Hunk hummed affirmatively. “We can. I just thought you’d be more comfortable if we didn’t touch you to get them.” 

“That’s awfully considerate of you,” Keith said after a tick, a small appreciative smile curving his lips. 

“I’m hurt, I thought I was considerate all the time,” Hunk teased.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” 

“I know, I know. I’m joking.” 

“Right.” Keith looked wary, but didn’t add anything.

Hunk waited for the guy to leave after he’d said his piece, but surprisingly, he stayed. Keith curled up on the other end of the couch with a datapad he’d pulled from thin air and occasionally looked at Hunk over the screen when he thought he wasn’t paying attention. Cute, Hunk thought fondly. Who knew Keith could be cute? He finished Lance’s pieces without being interrupted by a single klaxon and Hunk considered the day a success. And well, if Keith walked him back to his suite without a word, he’d consider it part of the day’s victories too.

* * *

Months later, when they finally had enough free time and peace of mind to put on the fashion show, Hunk thought back to that afternoon on the couch. He grinned fondly as he put some last-minute touches to the hem of Keith’s tunic, a near, iridescent replica of what he’d daydreamed about so long ago. Keith, predictably, snarked at Lance over his head and reluctantly obeyed when Hunk reminded him to stay still. Lance was probably making faces at Keith behind his back, if Pidge’s snicker and Shiro’s long-suffering sigh were any indication. Allura’s giggle could be heard and Coran, predictable in his own way, was likely making faces right alongside Lance. 

“Done,” Hunk murmured, running his hands softly up Keith’s ribcage. Keith shivered, a near-ticklish spasm, and stood on tiptoe to press a kiss against the mouth of his much taller partner. They’d obviously been pressed together a little too long, according to Pidge, who shouted about “her eyes, her poor, youthful, innocent eyes.” Hunk nearly keened when Keith pulled away and quickly stifled the noise before it left his throat.

“Thanks,” Keith said, eyes shining. He wiped a bit of spit from the corner of his lips and turned around. He nearly strutted toward the catwalk Coran had helped them set up, and Hunk’s eyes followed him as discreetly as he could.

He hadn’t succeeded, but he smiled anyway, careless, as Allura gave him a conspiratorial wink. He’d let her have that one. This wouldn’t have been possible without her, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! ♥


End file.
